


I Love You… Atticus Finch

by anyothergirl415



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:43:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyothergirl415/pseuds/anyothergirl415
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t like Sam was just going to leave the puppy on the side of the road, and come on, Dean couldn’t be <i>too</i> mad, the little fluff ball was adorable after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love You… Atticus Finch

It happened the summer Sam first read _To Kill a Mocking Bird_. Admittedly, he was a little obsessed with the book. Something about the single father raising his two often mischievous children, a whole world bigger than them out there and yet everything seemed to revolve around their actions. And because Sam saw a little bit of Scout in both him _and_ Dean, he didn’t feel so bad relating to a little girl on such a personal level. Not that he mentioned it to his brother though. Sam was old enough now, at fourteen, to understand when things should just go unsaid.

Rain trickled down from the clouds, blanketing Sam in a fine mist, seeping through the tiny crack in the zipper of his backpack that would never close all the way. Sam was heading home from the library, not as quickly as he should especially since Dean had insisted he be home by four and it was already five ‘til. He was going to be late even before he heard the faint whine from the dip of grass along the side of the road.

Which very well could have been the main reason he stopped to investigate. That and the fact that their life was made up of investigations. None of the Winchesters would be where they were otherwise.

Bending slightly at the waist Sam narrowed his eyes at the thick grass, shifting forward when the noise repeated, longer and more painful sounding. Pursing his lips in concentration Sam snatched a large stick off to the side of him and extended it, poking into the grass tentatively as if one of those monster’s he sometimes had nightmares about would jump up and snatch him from nowhere.

It was a good thing Dean wasn’t there because there was another rustle and Sam squeaked and half jumped back as a matted fuzzy _thing_ shot up out of the grass. A moment later Sam had recovered and was stepping forward once more, kneeling into a crouch to observe the creature, ignoring the slight race of his heart.

 _The creature_ turned out to be a puppy. Its fur was thick and crusted with dirt and something dark red that looked suspiciously like blood. Sam’s heart clenched painfully at the sight of the shivering animal, soft whoosh of air leaving his lips as he extended a hand and the puppy flinched back. What little he knew about animals told him that the main reason the puppy would hide away was the association of people with pain.

Clearly someone had harmed this helpless little dog.

This pissed Sam off _so much_ his blood boiled and he hissed quietly. _No one_ had the right to treat an animal – or _any_ living creature – like that.

It was another minute or two until Sam felt calm enough to take control of the situation. He thought of the way Dean would react only for a moment before he slid the backpack off his shoulder and shrugged out of his coat.

“C’mere little guy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Sam said softly and shifted forward.

The puppy struggled to get away but his paw was caught on a branch. Sam frowned and gently detangled him before laying his coat over the shivering bundle. Pausing to once more hook the backpack over his shoulders, Sam let the puppy adjust to the new feeling before he bent down and carefully lifted the furry bundle from the ground.

Sam cradled the still shaking animal to his chest, adjusting his arms until he felt the puppy was secure and he started off down the road again. There was a pretty good chance Dean wasn’t going to be too pleased with Sam bringing home a stray but there was no freaking _way_ that Sam was just going to _leave_ the thing. If anything Sam would look after him all on his own, without Dean’s help. He could totally handle that.

By the time Sam had made it home it was twenty past four and the rain was nearly pouring down in buckets. But the puppy was safely covered in his coat and Sam was fairly sure the little guy was asleep. It made up for the way Dean threw the door open and narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed with his little brother.

Rolling his eyes in familiar response, Sam pushed passed Dean and headed into the living room, trying not to shift too much and wake the puppy.

“Sam… I was just about to get in the car and come looking for you,” Dean shut the door roughly and flipped the lock. “What the hell took you so long?”

Frowning, Sam readjusted the puppy in his arms and turned slowly around to face his brother. “I was walking home and I found this…” Pulling the coat back, Sam glanced down at the fluffy mass then looked back up at Dean. “He was whining in a bush and… I think he’s bleeding. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

The annoyance on Dean’s face melted away in a flash and Sam blinked in a mixture of shocked surprised as his brother crossed the room in quick strides and dipped slightly to observe the puppy. “C’mon, let’s take him to the sink.”

Sam trailed after his brother in stunned silence, heading into the kitchen and blinking in the fluorescent light. “He was scared of me so we better be careful.”

“It’s okay,” Dean said softly and reached out to cup the small body, lifting him from Sam’s grasp carefully and holding him up to inspect. “All this blood looks dried, so maybe his cut has healed. Sam get the water to a warm temperature, it’s gonna take both of us to bathe him.”

Nodding Sam reached out to fiddle with the taps, testing the liquid with two fingers until it felt just warm enough, not too cold or too hot. “What should I do? Get my shampoo? Soap? Bacon?”

Dean looked up at him with slightly raised eyebrows, “bacon?”

“For Atticus Finch,” Sam explained, the name slipping out almost out of his control. When Dean’s eyebrows only lifted more, Sam sighed and huffed with a quick gesture to the puppy, “I named him Atticus Finch.”

“Like… _To Kill a Mocking Bird_?” Dean’s eyebrows dropped and a smirk curved his lip up in a familiar gesture that said he found Sam utterly amusing more often than not, particularly at this moment.

Sam was honestly a little surprise Dean knew the reference and felt compelled to ask him whether he related with Scout in any way but it clearly wasn’t the time. “Yeah like that. So… bacon?”

“How about you get your shampoo, we’ll cover the food thing in a minute but we need to find out if he has any damage on his body first,” Dean slipped back easily into the caring mode and turned to the sink, fingers prodding gently along the top of the puppy’s head.

For a moment Sam was hypnotized by the flex and bend of his brother’s fingers, so gentle and soft in stark contradiction to the usual rough curl around sharp metal and steel. Something quiet and soothing fell from Dean’s lips in the direction of the faint whine of the once more trembling puppy. Sam spun on his heels and headed out of the kitchen, too shaken by an emotional upsurge dwell on anything outside completing his task.

It only took a few minutes to retrieve his bottle of shampoo from the bathroom and dart back down the hall but by the time he returned Dean had the puppy almost completely soaked. Surprisingly, Atticus Finch was sitting in the sink seemingly without an though when he slid closer Sam noticed the towel Dean had crammed in to cover porcelain and make for a comfortable place for the puppy to sit. For whatever the reason the simple gesture made Sam’s heart clench. It was so… _thoughtful_.

“Here,” he popped the top of the bottle and offered it to Dean, tipping it upside down at his brother’s encouraging nod. “Do you think Dad will let us keep him?”

“Don’t see why not,” Dean rolled his shoulders in a shrug and focused in on the puppy in his grasp, rubbing the creamy white shampoo in small circles along the matted fur, working it until dirt rose from the surface. “He’s not gonna be a big dog, easy to take a long in the car. Plus I’m eighteen so what’s he gonna do? Say no?”

Sam’s eyes were fixed on the gentle movements of Dean’s fingers, mesmerized by the soapy rise crawling up tanned flesh. Heat sparked along Sam’s veins, mind supplying an image of those fingers traveling along his skin.

 _Alright_.

It wasn’t as if Sam hadn’t noticed how attractive his brother was before this but something was different now, something was nagging at him and Sam had to hastily shove the arousal away before it became too obvious. Dean knew him too well and there was no _way_ Sam would logically be able to provide a reason why watching Dean bathe a puppy in the sink was getting him _hard_.

“Go get a dry towel,” Dean insisted, not taking his eyes from the puppy as he gently rocked him under the faucet, rinsing the now dirty soap foam from unmated fur.

Sam spun once more on his heels and darted back down the hall. Something about the way Dean looked at Atticus Finch unnerved him. There was none of his usual snarky, judgmental eyebrow arches, scoffs of irritation that made Sam feel five years old again. Dean had always been able to reduce him to that twitchy, unsure little kid with just a look. Which wasn’t really saying much since Sam was dealing with being a twitchy, gangly teenager on most occasions anyway.

Returning moments later with the towel Sam held it out, letting Dean settle Atticus Finch within the folds and gently pat dry. They moved silently toward the couch, sitting side by side as Dean continued to dry the animal and Sam held him close.

“Okay let’s take a look,” Dean murmured, lifting the towel to expose the white little ball of fur that rested beneath. Atticus Finch seemed a little more relaxed, perhaps realizing that neither Sam nor Dean were going to cause him any harm. “C’mere little guy,” Dean cooed and lifted the puppy onto his lap, spreading him out on his back and laughing as his paws waved about. “Just gotta make sure you’re okay Atticus Finch, then we’ll give you some bacon as a treat for being so good.”

Sam’s heart fluttered beats when Dean said the name, a silent acceptance that made him feel less lame. Knowing his brother wasn’t going to mock him for the name choice – beyond the casual mention before – meant something to Sam. Though he’d stopped trying to name the need for acceptance a while ago. Who didn’t want to be awesome in the eyes of their older brother? It was simple logic to want to go beyond a sibling relationship and be _friends_. And if there was more to that, well Sam wasn’t acknowledging it at this point in time.

“Looks good, maybe the blood wasn’t his,” Dean looked up at Sam and shrugged, turning Atticus Finch over and stroking fingers through his fur. “Okay I haven’t thrown out the bacon from this morning so you can get that. And some water? We’ll have to make a trip to the store to get puppy food. Collar too. Probably a leash.”

Jumping off the couch Sam nearly ran into the kitchen to gather the required items. Dean was _really_ into this and it made Sam incredibly happy. He’d been a little more worried than he’d admitted as to how Dean would react when Sam showed up with Atticus Finch and knowing he’d done something good was really boosting his ego. Sam was at the point in his life where he could use all the ego boosting he could get.

The dried out bacon was resting on paper towels on the counter and Sam sniffed at it, frowning before snatching a piece and a bowl from the cupboard. After ensuring the water was cool enough Sam filled the bowl and carried it carefully into the living room. Setting both on the floor and dropping down beside them, Sam looked up at Dean and Atticus Finch, small smile on his face.

Dean gently lifted the puppy, bending over until tiny paws rested on green carpet. Shifting back once more both boys watched as Atticus Finch took a few steps forward, hesitating and looking at them both. “C’mere Atticus Finch, I’ve got bacon,” Sam held out the dried meat to the puppy, grinning as he stepped forward and licked it tentatively.

Upon deciding the meat was in fact delicious, Atticus Finch was quite happy to munch all that Sam had to offer, licking Sam’s fingers for the taste once it was gone. He was at the bowl of water in the next moment, lapping noisily then half stepping into the liquid.

Dean laughed and pushed off the couch, rubbing his palms over his thighs. “I’ma get my keys and shoes, there’s a pet place by the grocery store, we’ll go there.” Smiling down at them, Dean reached out to shift his fingers through Sam’s hair as he walked around the couch and headed down the hall to their room.

Sam watched him go, hand gliding up through his hair as his brother had moments before. Swallowing, Sam considered why his heart was racing before looking back down at Atticus Finch. “I just don’t know little dude,” Sam whispered, scratching through fluffy white fur.

-=-=-=-

“What color collar?” Dean asked, pushing the mini grocery cart ahead of him, eyes trailing over the racks of collars.

Sam’s eyebrows lifted slightly, surprised that he was even being given a choice. “Oh um…” he glanced at all the options and tried to imagine the one Dean would like best. Sam’s lips lifted into a smile as he caught sight of a thin black circle, little miniature electric guitars stamped in white along its band. “This one,” he tugged it off the bar and tossed it into the cart.

Dean grinned and nodded, pushing his palms into the handrail and shoving forward. Sam cradled Atticus Finch in his arms, stroking him slowly to keep the shakes at bay. “Puppy food,” Dean pulled to a stop and scanned the bags, face scrunched up in thought. “Which one?”

For the second time Sam found himself surprised that he was being asked. The thought that this might be some new type of Dean teasing sparked along Sam’s brain but he tried to shove it away, give his brother the benefit of a doubt that he didn’t necessarily deserve it. “How about that one? High in protein? It says it promotes healthy hearts.”

“Looks good,” Dean nodded and lifted the bag, setting it beside the collar in the cart.

They continued down the aisle that way, stopping to select food and water dishes, a leash, brush, shampoo, all those things they imagined a puppy would need. Sam took great joy in selecting a handful of toys for Atticus Finch to play with, glancing at Dean before he tossed them in the cart.

It ended up costing a lot more than either had intended on spinning and Sam frowned, knowing Dean had basically just spent half a week’s paycheck but he shrugged and ruffled Sam’s hair before petting Atticus Finch so Sam didn’t feel too bad. Or bad at all. Actually, he felt pretty damn good.

Judging from the smile on Dean’s face, his brother felt likewise.

-=-=-=-

It was late evening by the time Sam got to drop down onto the living room floor and show Atticus Finch his new toys. They’d gone through a drive thru after the pet store and Sam spent a good deal of their meal smacking his brother’s hand before Dean could feed the puppy fries. Once home they set up the puppy’s bowls with food and water and hooked on his collar. Sam had insisted on buying a book about dogs to see if they could figure out which bread Atticus Finch was and he was pleasantly surprised when Dean pulled a chair next to him at the dining table to help in his quest.

Sam was just beginning to roll the ball across the room, laughing when Atticus Finch stumbled after it, when their dad showed up. Dean was on the couch, dog book on his lap, naming breeds and holding up the book so Sam could see the picture every so often. Both boys looked up as their dad stepped into the room, shaking rain off his shoulders and hair.

Atticus Finch was also frozen for just a moment, staring at John before yelping and skidding across the room, half jumping up Dean’s leg until he bent over to snatch him up and place him on his thigh. Sam couldn’t resist turning his gaze to the puppy now nudging at Dean’s arm, seeking a hiding spot. Once more his heart lurched before he tore his eyes away to stare at his dad.

“Boys,” John pursed his lips and looked between the two of them, eyebrows slightly elevated in question. “Something you wanna tell me?”

“I found a puppy,” Sam supplied as Dean’s mouth open. There was no way Sam was going to let Dean take the fall if their dad was mad. That would be a totally shitty thing to do. “He was on the side of the road and I brought him home. We washed him up and he’s okay so can we keep him?” Sam sucked in a sharp breath, looking between his dad and Dean and wondering if all the words sounded as rushed as they felt coming out.

At the same time Dean and his dad let out a loud swell of laughter, heads tilting back in similar fashion with their amusement. “Oh Sam, you know just how to put things.”

Sam pouted slightly and rolled the puppy’s ball between his palm along the floor, listening to it jingle softly. “You guys suck.”

John continued to laugh and stepped forward, dropping his bag to the side and sitting on the couch beside Dean. “Well alright, let’s see this little guy.”

Dean shifted around to pull out the puppy, holding him up for John to take. “He didn’t have a collar when Sam brought him back, we bought one. Looked like someone had left him out there to die.”

A deep frown turned John’s lips down as he took the puppy, holding him up to stare into his eyes, “poor little guy.” Looking back at his son’s John stroked fingers along the top of Atticus Finch’s head and Sam knew they’d won him over. Or the puppy had. “You know it’s a lot of work taking care of a puppy. You’ll have to clean up after him, provide for him, and when he gets older he’ll be under your care.”

Face splitting into a grin that matched Dean’s, Sam looked at them both before watching his dad, “does this mean we get to keep him?”

“Yeah… you can keep him. But I swear to god if I step in any dog shit you’re both gonna get an earful,” John grumbled but Sam could see the small smile along the corner of his lips and his heart swelled. “Did you name him?”

“Yup,” Dean laughed and gestured toward Sam. “Leave it to Sam to come up with something so weird.”

Sam grinned brighter and scooted forward to lean on the couch between them, reaching out to pet the puppy in his dad’s lap, “Atticus Finch. And it’s not weird. It’s _awesome_.”

“Atticus Finch,” John repeated and looked at Sam before reaching out to ruffle his hair not unlike the way Dean did so often. “I like it Sam. So did you guys get supplies for him?”

Sam opened his mouth to respond, pleased by his father’s words, but Dean spoke up before him. Snapping his jaw shut Sam went back to petting Atticus Finch, small smile once more playing across his lips. This was all kind of wonderful and Sam couldn’t remember having such a good day in a really long time. Dean was filling their dad in on what they’d bought and Sam hardly noticed when his brother’s leg shifted to press into his side.

Only he _did_ notice because Dean’s foot half turned to tuck in the slight space between Sam’s parted legs and the touch was anything but casual. There was purpose behind it, importance, something Sam couldn’t name and wouldn’t dare too. Naming it would only serve to confuse Sam more, of this he was certain.

-=-=-=-

Having a puppy was kind of like having a baby, or at least Sam thought so, he’d _logically_ never had a baby before. But Atticus Finch needed constant surveillance and often woke in the middle of the night, whining in the little bed they’d set up for him on the floor until either Sam or Dean pulled themselves from sleep long enough to scoop him up and carry him back to bed.

The first time that happened Sam had been intending to deposit Atticus Finch on Dean’s bed and crawl back under the warmth of his covers but his brother’s hand had shot out and wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place. Sam had considered the touch, the reasoning behind it, and failed at any forms of logic. So instead he reclaimed Atticus Finch once more and pulled the covers back, sliding in and tucking the puppy between them.

In the morning he’d woken with Dean’s arm over his middle, body half curved toward him, hot breath puffing out over his neck giving way to the rise of goose flesh. Atticus Finch was curled into a little ball of fluff between their chests and as far as Sam could tell, the puppy was the only reason why their bodies weren’t glued together. Sam wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The idea of being glued to Dean’s body was strangely appealing.

The following nights happened in similar sequence. Sam would wake to Atticus Finch’s whining, would somehow muster up the energy to drag himself from bed, and would _intend_ to simply leave the puppy in his brother’s bed. Only Dean’s fingers continually shot out to stop him from moving and Sam was beginning to thoroughly enjoy their strong hold around his wrist, the soft silk of slightly calloused skin along the pulse of his vein.

It wasn’t just the sleep thing though. In fact with each passing day Sam began to realize that he was tapping into thoughts and feelings he’d probably had for a long time but never really noticed before. It was the weird little things. The contrast of tanned fingers along white fur, the gentle coo Dean made almost unconsciously when Atticus Finch settled in his lap. The excited lift of his features when the puppy learned he could push the ball back across the living room with a nudge of his nose. And especially the building buzz of excitement that grew around him as he began teaching Atticus Finch simple tricks like sitting and barking on command.

It was actually a little terrifying, how obsessive Sam was becoming about the entire _crush on Dean_ situation. His mind was gathering a plethora of data, constantly noting even the littlest things. Like the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when amusement lit the green to sparkling emerald. Or how his skin glistened in the early evening sun after they’d spent the afternoon playing with Atticus Finch in the sprinklers. And above all those things, there were the looks, knowing and lingering. The touches too long on his thigh, to gentle through his hair. Then of course the whole sharing the same bed on most nights, the way Sam’s skin tingled as if Dean’s lips had been running along it just moments before he woke.

Three weeks after the addition of Atticus Finch to their family unit, Sam had officially come to the conclusion that he was in fact insane. And also his thing for Dean was more serious than first thought. Sam started having dreams involving very unbrotherly things – like the super hot flare of tongues colliding, or the whisper of those slightly calloused fingers running along his hard length, squeezing and twisting in the he liked most. More than once a day Sam found himself suddenly hard at the receiving end of another look that smoldered or a touch that burned.

Basically, Sam was losing his mind and Dean was maybe not so unknowingly responsible.

It all came to a head on what Sam had declared as Atticus Finch’s one month birthday. Dean had of course insisted the idea was foolish, seeing as the puppy was clearly older than one month, but Sam rationalized that it was one month of being a Winchester and that was too awesome not to celebrate. The logic seemed to work for Dean because he offered no more arguments about the subject.

They weren’t really doing anything special for the day only Sam had this great idea to set up a little barricade in the back yard and hide a whole bunch of treats broken up in pieces behind random items. At first Atticus Finch didn’t get the game but once he’d discovered the first couple pieces he realized what the game was and went off in a quest.

Sam thought the whole thing was really cute and something that Dean _had_ to see. So he turned and headed through the house, searching for his brother. Water was running in the bathroom and the door was cracked open so Sam assumed his brother was just washing his hands. Nudging the wood open however told him it was the shower, not the sink running.

Steam was building in waves above the curtain, fogging up the mirror, dampening Sam’s shirt within moments and yet he slid forward, heart kick starting. Dean was humming some hard rock song that sounded too pretty to be decipherable and Sam’s hair slowly curled as the sweat blanketed over it.

There was a flash of skin as Dean shifted across the tub, reaching out for the soap. Sam swallowed thickly and stepped into the bathroom, sliding against the wall and quietly closing the door behind him. One step to the side and Sam’s calf was resting against the warm porcelain of the tub. From this angle Sam could see the water slicked skin, the knobs of backbone, the curve of a perfectly rounded ass, rippled muscles pulling and relaxing with each movement.

Sam’s heart was really racing now, beating so hard against his chest it almost hurt. Dean’s hands were soapy, curling along his arms as he cleaned himself. The water pelted heavily on Dean’s body and Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away. Heat was building low in the pit of his stomach, lengthening his cock, causing it to strain against the zipper of his jeans. And Sam _knew_ he should turn and fucking _run_ because no matter what weird looks Sam thought he kept seeing out the corner of his eyes, chance were Dean was just messing around with him and his brother would literally _kill_ him if he found him like this. Rubbing his palm into the hard heat, biting on his bottom lip, damp hair hanging in his wide, glassy lust laced eyes.

As it always seemed to be, Dean was one step ahead of Sam. Turning slowly Sam’s eyes were instantly drawn down to the one part of his brother’s body he hadn’t seen since they were tiny little kids and took baths together. He didn’t expect his brother to be hard and he _certainly_ didn’t expect Dean’s soapy fingers to be sliding along the inflamed flesh.

Sam sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes shot up to meet bright emerald. “D- _Dean_ ,” Sam squeaked, frozen to the spot, _busted_.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean murmured and turned the rest of the way, stepping forward slowly, proudly displaying his hard cock, soapy skin, rippling muscles. “You’re staring.”

If Sam could get his throat to work he’d snort a big _duh_. At this particular moment in time Sam couldn’t imagine a better thing to stare at than Dean. “I… I… you…” Sam was _really_ trying but words weren’t possible.

Dean smirked and closed the distance between them, pushing the shower curtain open with one extended hand. Because Dean was _Dean_ which translated to ultra cool and suave and _drop dead sexy_ , he could get away with dragging Sam into the tub, jeans, shirt, boxers and all.

Sam was not ultra cool or suave, he was only fourteen and hadn’t quite adjusted to the extra inches he’d sprouted in the last few months. Also he had no idea what to do regarding being _with_ someone so his hands fluttered about the soapy body before him and he leaned forward, trying to catch Dean’s lips.

Long fingers that had been the staring characters in Sam’s dreams as of late worked under his damp t-shirt, pushing up until the material slid over his head and dropped heavily onto the bathroom floor. “I know you want me Sam,” Dean murmured, voice rough around the edges with his arousal, deeper than Sam had ever heard it.

It sent little shockwaves down his spine and Sam leaned forward, swaying from the mixture of heat and _want_. “D-do,” he gasped, dropping his hands hard on Dean’s soap chest and circling slowly.

“Want me to pin you against the wall?” Dean asked and popped the button on Sam’s jeans, dragging the zipper down so slowly Sam thought he could actually feel it moving against the hard line of his arousal, sighing in relief when it was free. Dean’s words were causing havoc to his senses and he could only nod, moving obediently when his brother pushed the damp denim and cotton down to his ankles, stepping out of them.

In the next moment Sam was spun around, pressed hard into the water slick wall, gasping in shocked pleasure. Dean wasted no time in crowding in on his space, molding their flesh together, smearing soap along Sam’s body.

“Want me to kiss you?” Dean asked once more, lips close enough to Sam’s he could feel the small release of air over sensitive flesh.

Sam choked on an answer, unable to form a single letter. Thankfully Dean understood the flick of a tongue and he closed the gap between them, head tilting to the side to cover Sam’s mouth with his own.

It was all heat and passion and this was Sam’s first _real_ kiss. He could hardly count the fumbled attempts with Hannah Johnson the year before under the school bleachers. This kiss was all slide and pull, the trail of tongues together, the drag of teeth along flesh. Sam moaned and arched up into his brother’s body, arms wrapping around strong shoulders, hands struggling for purchase on slick skin.

Dean broke their kiss enough to murmur a soft, “want me to touch you?”

It was another _duh_ question and Sam mustered the energy to half glare at his brother.

Chuckling softly Dean nodded and let his fingers press firm into Sam’s neck, sliding down his skin slow enough to burn a trail. The first curl of calloused skin against his hard flesh had Sam moaning loudly and dropping forward into Dean’s body. His brother supported his weight easily, stroking firm and sure.

It was everything he’d dreamed and more, intense and all consuming, weakening his knees and blurring his vision. Sam wasn’t going to last but he reached out, struggling blindly until Dean’s free hand guided his questing fingers to their destination.

Dean’s cock was burning and heavy in his fingers, bigger and thicker, and Sam’s stroked nervously for a moment before Dean’s soft murmur of pleasure encouraged him to gain confidence. The more he tested the gentle squeeze, twist, stroke, the more he discovered what affected his brother the most. It was almost as thrilling as being touched and Sam lost himself in the pleasure.

Within minutes he could feel the tug and pull of his orgasm, coursing through him, and he moaned Dean’s named and quickened his pulls, urging his brother along. He came in a sharp gasp, thrusting into Dean’s hand and squeezing his flesh hard.

Sam never really registered Dean coming outside the gentle shake of his shoulders and the gasp of his name. They panted together in unison, lips meeting and sliding slowly as their heart rates returned to normal.

Dean pulled him forward into the shower spray to wash the remnants of come from his body and Sam hummed happily, more content then he had been in weeks.

Eventually they stumbled out of the shower and Sam let Dean dry him off before heading toward their room. It was only after they dressed that Sam remembered Atticus Finch still out in the yard and he squeaked, tugging Dean out the bedroom door before his shirt was all the way on.

“I think he’ll be okay outside,” Dean chuckled fondly, slipping his hand through his sleeve and stumbling after Sam to the back door.

Atticus Finch was indeed okay, rolling happily in the grass. When they stepped outside he stopped and leaped over to them, bouncing along in the way that always made Dean compare him to a bunny and Sam laugh.

“You’re okay huh dude?” Dean bent and scooped the puppy up, holding him high in the air before bringing him close.

Sam’s heart swelled, always loving the way Dean was with the animal. “I love you,” he blurted out, eyes growing wide when Dean turned to him with a slightly surprised expression. “Atticus Finch.” He added belatedly though he knew his brother wasn’t dumb enough to fall for that.

With a soft smile Dean turned the rest of the way and stepped forward, leaning in to brush their lips together, “I love you too Sammy. And I’m sure Atticus Finch does too.”

Sam beamed and trailed after Dean inside.  



End file.
